Monday, September 24, 2018

What Makes Creating Art Fulfilling?

In this world, at this time, there seems to be a lot of struggle among lots of creative people to continue practicing and creating their art consistently.  I can speak for myself, as a music composer on this front with ease; for the last four months, I've struggled with composing music a lot, in spite of having just graduated as a Music Technology major from Capital University - and it isn't for lack of effort or drive or desire to compose.  In fact, I've found myself sitting in front of the computer dozens of times now, wanting to get something that feels substantial made, only to have my focus fizzle out far too quickly to accomplish anything of note by my own standards.

For a while, I asked why this was occurring.  Part of me feels that this happened because I wasn't composing as much as I was editing (specifically, mixing and recording) music in the classes that I took at the university - practices with which I needed more experience regardless, and that were definitely worthwhile to learn and spend notable amounts of time on.  Another part of me thought that, coming out of the much-larger-than-normal storm of stress that was my senior year at the university meant that I was needing to take time to relax, breathe, and then approach composing a while later, so as to allow my mind to re-engage in the kinds of creative processes I was used to instead of trying to force them to occur.  And, while both of these probably were true to some degree, I still struggled from early May of this year (2018) onward up through this month, September, with composing.

Except, there were some odd exceptions to this on rare occasion - moments of progress that I had trouble predicting and finding a pattern within.

While I am still trying to verify what, exactly, the underlying pattern is that allows me to have sudden bursts of creativity and utilize them without distractions chipping away at my focus, and without my focus dwindling like a limited supply of fuel propelling my vehicle of progress forward, I do have a theory as to what has been the 'stimulant' providing me with extra energy and concentration: my knowing, or at least believing, that other people have a desire to hear my music.

You see, I, like a number of creative people that I know, may struggle with creating my art, but this has not always been the case for me.  Before my three years at Capital, there were a few 'regulars' with whom I shared my musical compositions.  These 'regulars' were people that I either knew in real life or online who took an interest in what I composed and made it clear, consistently, that they wanted to hear more and more of my work.  And I, enjoying the creative composing process, continued to make music, both as a creative exercise for myself that brought me joy, and as a way of saying "thank you" to them for taking interest in, and encouraging me to continue with developing and fine-tuning, my craft.

Once I started up my time at Capital University as a Music Technology major, however, the time that I had was much more limited then when I had been taking a much smaller workload at Columbus State (the college from which I transferred with course credits and a two-year associate's degree from when heading to Capital).  This definitely meant, early on, less composing...and less composing meant less to share with my regular music-enjoying friends and supporters.  Soon, I lacked the time to keep up with both all of the new social connections that I had found on the university's campus and those that I had off of campus, and I decided to nurture primarily new connections to new people that I was meeting at the time.

Furthermore, a transition also occurred that impacted my musical work.  As I mentioned earlier, I was no longer working on composing nearly as much as I was learning about the new-to-me fields of recording music (both in studio spaces and during live performances of varying forms) and mixing music (handling music after the recording or initial composing stage so that instruments and all other parts and sounds in a song, or other composition, work together to sound as best as possible to achieve the intended goal of the music).  This meant that I was absorbing new information, and trying to merge it with what I already knew about music and composing, as well as weeding out a lot of misconceptions and bad habits and practices that I had developed that would, in the long term, hinder my ability to compose, mix, and produce (and maybe also one day master) my own compositions.

Now, though, those three years that I spent as a student at Capital have concluded, and I have transitioned into a different part of my life, in which I intend to compose musical scores for various different media (with a particular focus on video game, film, and commercial scoring and composition).  Yet, in spite of that transition, it has taken quite a few months to get back into the composing process, and it is still much slower than it was over three years ago - a fact that I am coming to believe is due to a lack of feeling like my compositions are fulfilling, meaningful, or wanted by others.

Thankfully, that feeling isn't completely absolute; my parents and a few friends from the university that I keep in touch with are also interested in my music, and want to hear it when they can and when I create something new.  Still, it's not exactly the same; I used to keep a dialogue going between myself and those who really valued my musical composing processes.  I would read or listen to their feedback, the impressions of the music on their own imaginative minds, and learn from them about what I had created.  This process, in-and-of itself, felt like a kind of confirmation that my music was serving more than just me, and in an almost-paradoxical way, it made me happy that others enjoyed what I was able to weave together more than the act of creating it itself brought me into feeling happy and fulfilled.

I've heard it said before that "our gifts, our talents, and the energy that we use to fulfill them is not for us, but for others."  Perhaps this is true for me, in a way, in that I cannot access such seemingly-easy and enjoyable creativity, and focus for sustaining creative work, without feeling like I am preparing it to provide it to others.  Now, as I regain my ability to compose with a focused, creative, and easy-going, but also intuitive and persistent flow, I find myself wondering how many other artists might find that their creativity emerges and manifests that much more readily if it is made for an audience of others who are supporting them - namely, by enjoying and savoring the fruits of their artistic endeavors, and telling them about it.